


A Hold

by lea_hazel



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Caretaking, Chronic Illness, Female Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:29:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warden-Commander slowly becomes more and more ill, with only Velanna to care for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for an anonymous kmeme prompt asking for a Warden with a chronic illness.

At first it was only stiffness. Selby assumed it was from sitting at her desk all day, poring over books or records or letters. Once she was settled in and all immediate crises were resolved, she hardly ever left the Keep. Her mentors at the Tower had warned her that things like these could happen. When her neck was stiff and sore, when her arms ached from leaning over the desk on her elbows, when her knee wouldn't straighten and buckled under her, tripping her up... she just added a few more breaks and a regimen of stretches to her daily routine.   
  
When the pain started she didn't immediately connect the two. The pain never seemed to form a pattern, appearing first in her fingers and the heel of her hand, another time in her hips, and again in her elbows, first one and then the other. Selby blamed it on the cold drafts that could never be kept out no matter how many tapestries she put up in her room, or on her weak mage's constitution. A rudimentary healing spell could take the edge off the pain once she noticed it.   
  
Eventually, though, even Selby could not ignore the pattern any longer. 

Velanna was in the store-rooms, sorting through bunches of herbs and roots, tossing out those that were too stale to be effective. When she first recruited her, Selby had thought that the fact that they were both mages would create a common ground and eventually soften Velanna's attitude. Not much could penetrate past her predisposition to distrust, but surely the bond of a shared destiny would at least make a dent in her armor, so to speak. And so it did... but just a dent.   
  
At the sound of the door creaking open Velanna looked up. "Commander," she acknowledged her.   
  
It was a term of respect if not affection. Selby was used to being liked. "Velanna," she said, bracing her hand on the table to sit down heavily on a nearby stool. Her splayed fingers on the table looked alien to her eyes, thin and knobby in a way that they never were before.   
  
"Do you require something of me?" said Velanna, a fine edge of impatience creeping into her voice.   
  
"I seem to have developed the most curious illness," said Selby. "I have come to seek your advice."   
  
Velanna frowned. "What is your complaint?" she asked.   
  
Selby struggled to put the past few weeks' inconvenience into words. "I ache," she said finally, "everywhere. I'm just... sore all the time."   
  
"Where did the pain start?" asked Velanna, the creases above her eyes deepening.   
  
It was hard to remember when and where she had first noticed it. "My hands, I think," she said slowly. It had been difficult to flex her fingers, which were prone to being wrapped around a warm steel pen most hours of the day.   
  
"Show me," demanded Velanna.   
  
Selby watched her examine each of her hands in turn, ordering her to close a fist and then open it, testing each individual finger as well as her wrists. When she tried to rotate her left hand about its axis Selby yelped and pulled her hand away, cradling it protectively to her chest.   
  
Velanna scowled, unamused. "Stop that!" she scolded, as though Selby were an unruly apprentice.   
  
Reluctantly she released her hand back into Velanna's custody. "It hurts!" she said defensively.   
  
"I know," said Velanna. "That is why I need to look at it. It seems to be stiff and unresponsive. How long has this been going on?"   
  
She was _very_ unamused at the answer.   
  
"I know," said Selby, shamefaced. "I should have done something sooner."   
  
"No point in dwelling on what _should have_ been done," said Velanna. "Now, how long have you been limping?"   
  
Selby balked.   
  
"Let me guess," said Velanna and drew her hand over her eyes, "you thought no one noticed. If we had a healer--"   
  
"--But we don't," said Selby emphatically.   
  
"I know," said Velanna patiently.   
  
Immediately Selby felt guilty for snapping. It wasn't Velanna's fault they didn't have a healer; it wasn't anyone's fault. She sank her head into her hands and sighed deep from her belly. "I'm sorry, Velanna," she said, "this pain has been gnawing on my nerves and I just... I shouldn't have barked at you."   
  
Velanna was looking at her with a curious half-smile. "Here I thought you were made of steel."  
  
"I... thank you, I suppose," said Selby.   
  
Then she was all brisk efficiency again. "I am not sure my knowledge of herbalism is up to the task. There are things you can do to ease the pain, but they will only help so much."   
  
Selby slouched gloomily. "I will take what I can get."   
  
"Perhaps..." said Velanna reluctantly, "perhaps if you wrote to your shemlen healers, they may know something about this illness beyond what I can provide."   
  
Selby nodded and stood up with some difficulty. "I'd better get on that." 


	2. Chapter 2

Selby watched impassively as Velanna poured heated water into a shallow clay bowl and strewed it with crushed dry leaves. Their smell had been her constant companion, comforting at first. Not that she would have preferred the pain, she admitted to herself as she sank her hands into the hot water, gradually flexing her fingers. The heat brought almost immediate relief. If only it lasted even a little bit longer...  
  
"I'm taking your staff to the tanner to add a leather grip," said Velanna. "It will mold to your hand and make it easier to hold on to."  
  
"Thank you," said Selby dully.  
  
"You never mentioned if the heather cushions were helping you sleep at all."  
  
"No," said Selby.  
  
"No, you didn't mention, or no, they're not helping?" asked Velanna, her voice sharp.  
  
"Oh," said Selby. "I suppose they help a little."  
  
Velanna sighed dramatically. "When I see the tanner, I'll have him make you a hot water bottle. Perhaps that will work better. Have you been walking?"  
  
Selby drew her hands out of the water bowl and dried them carefully on a scrap of soft wool. "Yes."  
  
"Commander," said Velanna irritably.  
  
"Yes, Velanna," said Selby, looking her right in the eye. "I've been taking walks every day, as you instructed."  
  
"You should take one today," said Velanna firmly, "now. I will accompany you. And I think you should leave all your correspondence to dictation, there's no reason to strain yourself for so many hours when you employ a scribe."  
  
Selby braced herself with both hands and rose slowly, carefully to her feet. "As you say."  
  
"Here," said Velanna, handing her a wooden rod.  
  
Selby took it with both hands and examined it. "This isn't a mage's staff," she said.  
  
"Observant," said Velanna. "It's a cane."  
  
"A cane," said Selby hollowly. "Of course." She shook herself and stopped gaping at the thing, closing her less aching hand on the knob at one end. Leaning it against the flagstones she tested her weight on it.  
  
Velanna watched, arms crossed over her chest.  
  
"Let's go," Selby snapped, "daylight won't last forever."  
  
Velanna sighed and shook her head. "As you say, Commander."  


	3. Chapter 3

When Selby returned from her daily walk, alone, she was met by a nervous sergeant. "There's a visitor for you, Commander."   
  
Selby looked up from fiddling with her gloves. "What's this?"   
  
"A visitor," repeated the sergeant, "from the Circle Tower. She is waiting for you in the Grand Hall."   
  
Senior Enchanter Wynne was indeed waiting for her, chatting amiably with Mistress Woolsey, who seemed to have found in her a kindred spirit. Selby approached them cautiously, her cane thumping on the stone floor and announcing her presence, as ever. She braced herself for the look of well-meaning concern and the endless platitudes, but when Wynne turned to face her, her face was smooth and expressionless.   
  
"Warden, ah, I mean Commander, of course," she said, correcting herself seamlessly. "Oh, it _is_ good to see you. One finds it so hard to keep in touch these days."   
  
"It is good to see you, too, Wynne," said Selby, straining to move beyond bland cordiality and reach the genuine sentiment behind it.   
  
"First Enchanter Irving received your letters with some concern," said Wynne.   
  
Wynne always responded to crisis by becoming overly formal. "Perhaps we should discuss this in my office," Selby offered, "over a pot of tea."   
  
At the foot of the big stone staircase, Wynne offered Selby her arm as though it were the most natural thing in the world. By this time she had moved past reluctance and into resignation, so she accepted without a word, leaning on Wynne's arm as she took the steps one at a time, focusing on each one in turn. Her clicking cane continued to advertise her approach most effectively; when she reached her office, an elf was poking the fire into life and another was setting out a tray full of cups and plates. She settled herself into the cushioned chair with a soft sigh, her cane within reach.   
  
Wynne took a seat beside her and accepted a cup of tea. "I might have thought you'd ask for something a little stronger," she said nonchalantly.   
  
"I would have thought," said Selby, "that a Circle healer would disapprove of an invalid taking the brandy cure."   
  
Wynne laughed softly. "We take our comforts where we may," she said, "as a mutual acquaintance of ours might put it. You are dealing well."   
  
Selby laughed hollowly. "Not so very well, I think," she said, a nervous edge creeping into her voice. She could keep her newly acquired temper under control, most days, but it hissed and screeched constantly underneath the surface.   
  
"The illness has progressed rapidly?" asked the healer, all business again.   
  
She nodded, spreading out her fingers on her robes. Thick nodules lent them a spidery appearance, like vile, wicked vermin squatting on her knees. "The nights are difficult," she said mildly. "I won't lie, my spirits have often flagged."   
  
"Irving has given me leave to stay at Vigil's Keep as long as I need to, at my own discretion," said Wynne. "Perhaps I should stay longer than I had planned. Your healer has..." she trailed off awkwardly, clearly unsure how to approach the topic.   
  
"We have no healer," said Selby quickly. "Velanna, our herbalist, has been seeing to my treatment. She will likely come up shortly to check on me, and I shall introduce you two."   
  
"This is the Dalish mage your letters spoke of?"   
  
"Yes," said Selby slowly. "She may not take fond of you immediately, I should mention. Velanna is an irascible sort, but I would never have managed without her. She is loyal to the Wardens."   
  
"I am past questioning your judgment as a commander," said Wynne gently, with a smile.   
  
Selby smiled and sighed. "It is hard, sometimes, to trust my own judgment."   
  
"Everyone has bad days, Warden," said Wynne, sipping her cooled tea.   
  
"Yes," said Selby, "but my bad days seem to be getting worse." 


	4. Chapter 4

For Wynne, Vigil's Keep was an easy environment to adjust to. Much like Kinloch Hold, it was a large and efficiently run stone fortress, always bustling with activity. It was true though that the Keep saw much more outside traffic than the Circle of Magi, and people seemed far less apprehensive to enter it. The Grey Wardens were a welcome influence here, and it was Selby's doing. Wynne often wondered if the Warden-Commander appreciated the magnitude of her achievement, or if her recent troubles had overshadowed all else in her eyes.   
  
Certainly she had found her much changed. She felt almost as a stranger, sometimes. When Wynne departed from Denerim she had left behind her a cheerful girl, easy to laugh and relentlessly optimistic in her disposition. Her illness had taken away much of her vivacity, and it made her a difficult companion. Sitting in her presence was wearying, in a way that none of their long marches across the length and breadth of Ferelden had been. Watching the joy of life trickle out of her, day by day, might have been terribly painful.   
  
Her distraction afforded Wynne the likely mistake of wandering into one of the Keep's storage rooms, quite by accident, when she had been looking for the kitchens. When she saw the room's occupants, she started.   
  
"Oh," she said. "I seem to have wandered in the wrong direction. Don't let me distract you, by all means." She turned and meant to leave.   
  
"No need," said one of them, standing up so abruptly that her chair wobbled. "Please, don't trouble yourself."   
  
"Thank you," said Wynne, grasping after the young Warden's name.   
  
"I don't believe you have met the Commander's youngest recruit, Wynne," said Velanna, standing up. "Bethany, this is Senior Enchanter Wynne."   
  
"Pleased to meet you," said the girl, and shook Wynne's hand warmly.   
  
"We will resume our lessons at a later date," said Velanna sharply. "Please leave us now."   
  
Under different circumstances, Wynne might have found such a curt dismissal daunting, not to say rude, but she had had some time to adjust to Velanna's particular mannerisms. By now they were almost used to each other.   
  
"A word, if you might?" asked Velanna, gesturing at the empty seat beside her.   
  
"Of course," said Wynne. "What troubles you?"   
  
"I have been meaning to ask you for quite some time," said Velanna, "but it is difficult to find words that do not offend."   
  
She resisted a powerful urge to raise her eyebrow just a bit. "I do not take offense easily, Warden Velanna," she said.   
  
The Warden nodded sharply. "The Commander has spoken of you, at length. In fact she spoke at length about all her companions from the Blight, even when rebuffed repeatedly. It is most aggravating."   
  
"I see."   
  
Velanna shook her head. "But, that is not what I wished to speak of today. I wished to ask you about, well... Is it true? What Selby said? You have had congress with a spirit from the Fade?"  
  
Wynne hesitated, but finally nodded. "The Commander told you true."   
  
She shivered visibly. "You bear it well," she said. "I would find such a burden... disconcerting. To say the least."   
  
"I have been a healer for many years," said Wynne. "The feeling is not so strange to me as it might otherwise be."   
  
"Perhaps that is indeed the difference."   
  
"Is that what you wished to discuss?" asked Wynne. "I would not have thought that cause to send out your young pupil."   
  
Velanna glanced at the closed door. "I did not know what your answer would be, and I did not wish her to become anxious."   
  
"Your concern is commendable," said Wynne, and reserved the expression of surprise which occurred to her at the same time. "I think you enjoy being a teacher, do you not? And caring for Selby, too."   
  
"Perhaps," said Velanna, guardedly. "Caring for the ill is part of a Keeper's job."   
  
For a time they were silent, the Warden busying herself with the work of herbalism, Wynne merely sitting and observing without a word.   
  
"It is just a matter," said Wynne finally, "of remembering who you are."   
  
"Beg pardon?" said Velanna.   
  
"Bearing the weight of the spirit," she said. "It's not too difficult, as long as you take care to remember that your body still belongs to you."

Velanna opened her mouth, hesitated and shut it again.   
  
"Whatever is on your mind, I wish you would go ahead and say it," said Wynne.   
  
"It occurred to me," said Velanna, "that you might share this insight with the Commander."   
  
"I see," said Wynne, thinking this over. "What of you, then?"   
  
"I am not sure of what you speak," said Velanna.   
  
"You know what I mean. The things you spoke of just now. Don't you think you should speak of them with Selby?"   
  
Velanna busily peeled elfroot, stacking the skin shavings into a small pile on the battered and scarred work table. "I will think about it." 


	5. Chapter 5

Every morning started the same way. She woke entangled in a nest of quilts, coverlets and a few woolen scarves for good measure, all still warm from her night's sleep. Soon the morning's first pain would shoot through her stiff body, bubbling up to her awareness. As she extracted herself from her wrappings she rubbed her stiff joints one by one, until her blood rushed in to warm them and they deigned to respond to her command. Once she rose from her bedding she would hobble to the clothes chest at the foot of the bed to dress herself for the coming day, and descend to the dining hall to break her fast.   
  
Only lately, she hadn't needed to go down to the hall. Velanna had made a habit of appearing at her door shortly after dawn, bearing trays stacked with fresh bread, pots of honey and other luxuries. When Selby prodded her about this new custom she'd taken up, Velanna insisted she only did it because she was tired of taking her meal with the other Grey Wardens. Selby had her doubts, but the habit was growing on both of them, so she kept those to herself. On this morning Velanna had brought fried bread and sour cherry preserves, and they had both fallen on the feast as though they had not eaten in days.   
  
Selby looked at the table before her, which was empty except for a liberal scattering of crumbs. "I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a meal this much," she said idly.   
  
Velanna smiled. "I do believe I ate as much as the others combined."   
  
"Would you believe I didn't even know Amaranthine _had_ cherry trees?"   
  
"I think they were brought in from Highever," said Velanna. "I saw them bringing them into the kitchen in great wooden crates."   
  
"Oh," said Selby brightly. "Well, now I feel much better about that."   
  
"I don't see why, Commander," said Velanna, a crease forming between her eyes.   
  
"I'm still the Arlessa," said Selby, "not just the Commander of the Grey. Of late... I have neglected my duties towards Amaranthine. If I'm not cautious, I'll squander all the good will the Grey Wardens have won in Ferelden."   
  
"That does not seem likely, if you'll pardon my saying," said Velanna, quirking her brows.   
  
Selby laughed softly. "You can say anything to me, Velanna. You've seen me at my worst, I think you've earned at least that much."   
  
"Well," said Velanna, her eyes locked on her hands, which were busily folding a linen napkin into eighths, "in that case, I think you should consider making a trip into Amaranthine city. Soon."   
  
Selby raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"   
  
"You have not left the Keep and its immediate surroundings in weeks, if not months," said Velanna, almost but not quite keeping the censure from her voice. "Any longer, and people may wonder if you've been kidnapped by darkspawn."   
  
At that Selby truly laughed, a deep, rolling laughter the likes of which she'd forgotten she was capable of.   
  
Velanna smiled crookedly. "I think that did you more good than anything I've done for the past month," she said quietly.   
  
"Oh!" Selby exclaimed. "No, Velanna! Don't say things like that. You know how much I appreciate all that you've done, even when-- Well, when things seemed beyond hope. Maybe I haven't thanked you as often as I ought to. It's hard to remember, sometimes. Let me do it now, then."   
  
"I was only doing my job," said Velanna.   
  
"Still," Selby insisted. "Please accept my thanks. Don't think me ungrateful."   
  
"I wouldn't," said Velanna. "I would never think that. But really, it is as I said. All I have done is part and parcel of a Keeper's job. So it is I who thank you, for letting me be a Keeper again."   
  
Selby smiled and looked at her hands. "I hadn't thought of it like that."   
  
"No, you wouldn't have," said Velanna. "Come. Let us not dawdle when there is work to be done. I'll take the trays back to the kitchen."   
  
"Meet me in the training yard," said Selby. "I think it's high time I took an interest in training our new recruit, don't you?"   
  
"As you say, Commander." 


End file.
